


When we are gone, tell me what will remain?

by Etherea



Category: Eureka
Genre: Beware Vincent's homebrew, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 16:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etherea/pseuds/Etherea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carter and Zane bond over minor injuries and unsaid words, and a secret they didn't know they shared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When we are gone, tell me what will remain?

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to end this at the kiss, but given my utter failure to find good dirty fics for this pairing, I felt I owed it to the six or so of us who ship these two to follow through. Possble slight dub-con given that they're tipsy. I would love feedback on characterisation and the writing of the dirty bits. Title from Heading For Tomorrow, by Gamma Ray.

Zane was swearing incomprehensibly under Jo's desk when Carter walked into the Sherriff's office.  
"Uh, hey Zane. Whatcha doin?" Carter leant over the desk and squinted upside-down into the shadows where Zane lay.  
"Integrating the comms system for the cars and PDAs into the furniture. I've got some new software that'll pick up aggression patterns in speech and spawn a response escalation. The resonance of this wood is great for picking up sound waves, or it would be if it wasn't veneer over particle board!' Zane slammed his hand against the side of the desk, and swore again. Blood welled out of a long scratch on the side of his hand, and he stuck it in his mouth reflexively. Carter sighed.  
"Come on, get out of there." He walked around the desk and crouched down, grabbing Zane's uninjured hand and pulling him into a sitting position. "That's not good first aid, no matter what your grandpa told you." Zane, slumped and cross-legged, remained silent. Carter grabbed a kit out of the desk drawer, pulling out the saline and dressings. He reached for Zane's hand "Here. Zane, gimme - ow!" Zane shoved him, sending him sprawling backwards. "What the hell was that?!"  
"Dnee yr hip," the hacker mumbled around his hand. Carter scowled.  
"Want, no. Need, I'm thinking yes." He grabbed at Zane's hand again, dodging a second shove. A long splinter sat just under the skin. Carter grabbed tweezers out of the kit and pulled the shard of wood out before Zane could object.  
"Ow! Fuck!" Zane slapped at the sherriff's head with his free hand. They glared at one another while Carter held a piece of gauze dressing over the scratch. Carter ran his eye over the blinking lights and circuit boards now fixed to the underside of the desk.  
"So, you've been keeping busy. Did you write the software yourself?"  
"Please, do I look like a consumer? Besides, it's not exactly the kind of thing that you can buy on the open market. Speech pattern analysis, customised alerts based on threat level. Solid wood would be a lot better, but you can't have everything. Your desk is already done. I even rigged a miniature TASER into a fountain pen, in case you need to eloctrocute an unsuspecting lunatic. Or write a fancy invitation."  
"Remind me never to use pens in this office again."  
"Please, like you ever do any of the paperwork."  
Carter lifted the edge of the gauze, and pressed it back down. "Still bleeding."  
"Anyway, you're one to talk about keeping busy," Zane huffed. "I see that the grass is looking very neat on the baseball field that no-one in town ever uses."  
"Fresh white lines, too. Only diamonds I ever cared for."  
"Seems like a lot of effort for something useless."  
"Same as most diamonds, then."  
They sat in silence for around seventeen seconds before simultaneously realising they were holding hands.  
"So, I can probably take care of this -"  
"You'll be fine as long as you keep -"  
They spoke, and stopped abruptly, as one. Carter let go, and Zane took over keeping pressure on the gauze. The sherriff turned and sat, back to the desk, one leg out in front of him, one hand on his raised knee. The lines on his face suddenly seemed carved in place.  
Carter sighed. "It's easier to not think about him if I'm doing something. I stop doing things and I suddenly notice he's not there. I mean, not that he was around me much if he could help it."  
Zane shifted slightly, leaning closer. "He wasn't exactly on the same page as either of us. It just that all three of us were..."  
"Alpha dogs in a town full of cats?"  
Zane chuckled, head down. He reached out his uninjured hand and placed it on Carter's.  
"The bleeding will start again," protested Carter.  
"It'll stop eventually.

~~~

Beers at Cafe Diem had seemed like a great idea until Carter realised that if he drove home he'd have to arrest himself. The day had not been particularly long, nor very active, at least not by Eureka standards. A couple of speeding tickets and a citation for an unshielded delta ray generator. A cakewalk, basically. And it wasn't like he was even _that_ drunk, just a little over the limit.  
"If you don't shut up, _I'll_ arrest you," said Zane.  
Carter blinked in surprise. "Sorry, didn't realise I was saying that out loud. Possibly a night on your couch is not such a bad idea."  
"And you even have a coveted day off tomorrow, so you won't be up at sparrow's to wake me for a three mile run and a bowl of wheaties, or whatever it is you all-American boys do to start your day."  
"Sparrow's?"  
"Up with the sparrows. Or, waking up to the sparrow's first fart of the day. My mom used to say it."  
Carter leaned against Zane slightly as they walked up his stairs. "Your mom sounds funny."  
"Not so much." Zane opened the door and dropped the keys on a table just inside.  
"Wow," Carter exclaimed as they walked through the entryway. "I'm impressed. I expected much more..."  
"Mess?"  
"I was going to say wild forests of Cat 5 cable, but sure, let's go with mess." The house in front of him was even techier than S.A.R.A.H, with softly glowing screens on almost every object. Even the coffee table.  
"I'm not the modern day Howard Hughes you seem to think I am."  
Carter shrugged. "Well, you have been shutting yourself away more than usual. Can't blame a guy for expecting worse than this." He slipped his boots off and wandered over to the couch. Zane busied himself at the dishwasher, emptying it of clean dishes.  
"You know, I can hardly remember the last time I had a beer somewhere other than home?" Carter leaned back on the sofa.  
"So you prefer to drink alone?"  
"Ha ha. Wait til you have a teenage daughter, you'll want to drink whenever you get a moment alone too."  
"Not sure if you noticed, but I'm hardly the fatherly type."  
"No-one is, not really, not until they need to be. Hell, I bet Nathan never -"  
There was a crash and a burst of swearing from the kitchen. Carter sprang up and ran over, sliding to a stop at the sight of broken glass. Zane was clutching his left hand, blood dripping between his fingers.  
"Are you ok? Zane?"  
"I'm fine. I...ok, maybe I'm a couple of stitches short of fine. Can you put your shoes on and get over here please?"  
Carter danced over the slippery floors back to his boots, and shoved them onto his feet. "Where's your first aid kit?"  
"What am I, the school nurse? I don't have one."  
"You dont..." Carter sputtered unbelievingly at him. "Every other week something in this town explodes or catches on fire or mutates the nearby wildlife. First aid kit should be on your shopping list every week." He made his way back over, crunching over the glass to look at the wound. "Let me see."  
"I was exaggerating, I doubt it needs stitches. I'll be fine."  
Carter grabbed a few sheets of paper towel off the roll on the counter and dabbed at the blood. "Maybe, maybe not. We can at least close it up. You got any superglue?"  
Zane glared. "Look, MacGyver, you're not supergluing my hand."  
"Just until Alison can take a look at it in the morning. Do you have any?"  
They looked up from the bloody hand, glaring at each other stubbornly. Carter clenched his jaw. "Either I superglue this together or I drag you to GD's infirmary. I'll wake Jo up to drive us if necessary."  
Zane laughed, breaking the stare-off. "Great, then we'd both be bleeding. Superglue's in the third drawer." Carter pulled it open, and dug around in the flotsam. When he turned back around with the red-capped metal tube in hand, Zane was picking bits of glass out of his hand and sucking on the wound.  
"Dammit, Zane, I told you that's not what you should do. Don't you give a crap about bacteria getting into the wound?" He grabbed the younger man's wrist and pulled.  
"It feels better."  
"Oh yeah, it'll feel great when it gets infected and swells up like a balloon." Carter popped the cap off the glue, wiped away the excess blood, and dabbed a few drops of the glue on the wound. "This'll keep crap out of it. You can go see Alison tomorrow to see if you need anything else."  
"Yes, Nurse Carter."  
Carter ignored him pointedly, and resumed cleaning up the blood from his fingers. "How is it that whenever we're alone together you end up bleeding and I end up holding your hand?"  
"Just lucky, I guess."  
"Sorry I spooked you."  
Zane shrugged. "Not your fault. I just haven't heard you say his name since..."  
Carter paused, and dropped Zane's hand. "Really?" Zane nodded, running his right thumb over the injured palm of his other hand.  
"Hardly anyone says his name anymore, except Alison. Not that we spend much time together. Too painful, you know?"  
Carter exhaled through his nose, nodding. "At least you only had the hots for one of them."  
"What?!" Zane's head snapped up at that remark. Carter clapped a hand over his mouth and backed away. "Oh no, Carter, you don't get to drop that kind of bomb and then not follow through."  
Dropping his hand, Carter grimaced. "Three beers! I only had three beers, I should not be drunk enough to be talking like that."  
Zane grinned. "Well, it was Vincent's home brew. You can never really tell if three beers is just three beers."  
Carter kicked his shoes off at the edge of the kitchen and retreated to the other side of the kitchen island. "You understand people can't know about this, right? Especially not Aly."  
"And why is that, exactly?"  
"Because I hope to still have a shot with her one day, and she's a fairly straight arrow type. I mean, not that I think she's a bigot, I just...well, would you date someone who you knew fancied your ex?"  
"Me? Sure. I'm not exactly one for colouring inside the lines, though." Zane followed Carter's route around the kitchen island, abandoning his glass- and blood-spattered shoes on the way. "You felt that way about a lot of guys?"  
"No, not a lot. Especially not here. Everyone's so geeky and focussed and in some cases _aggressively_ asexual."  
"Except for Nathan."  
"And you." Carter stared at his blue and white baseball-themed socks. Zane's feet - his socks covered in spaceships, naturally - appeared beside his.  
"I miss him too, y'know." Zane's voice was quiet, cautious. Carter risked a glance in his direction. Zane was staring at the floor, arms crossed in front of him. "I didn't...I never said anything. He was always either with Alison or trying to get her back. He never had eyes for anyone else, girl or guy. The man had focus, I'll say that."  
"Did you ever tell anyone?" Carter slid sideways, close enough to feel Zane's warmth without quite touching. Zane shook his head.  
"I'm already enough of an outsider here. Eureka's pretty accepting, but...well, I probably stayed quiet for the same reason you did." He smiled crookedly. "Gotta keep my options open with the ladies." Zane shifted, closing the gap between them. Carter felt electricity run up his arm, and without quite knowing why, turned and wrapped his arms around the younger man. One of them was shaking, or maybe both, and then they were kissing and the shake turned more to a shudder, and then Zane stilled in his arms.  
Carter pulled his head away, his arms still wrapped around the other man. "Hey, we don't have to..."  
"Carter, for once in your life will you shut up, please?" Zane uncrossed his arms and grabbed the back of Carter's head, pulling him back into the kiss. They slammed against one another and slid down the side of the kitchen island to the floor.  
Carter cradled Zane's head with one hand to protect him from the cold, hard tile floor. Zane smirked. "Ever the gentleman." He wrapped his legs around the other's hips, and with a quick twist flipped their bodies. Carter barely managed to avoid braining himself on the floor, and glared up at the man now straddling him. "You don't have to worry about breaking me, Carter."  
"Jack."  
"What?"  
"I...I think at this point we can dispense with the whole last-name-basis concept." Carter's...Jack's voice was a hoarse growl, and Zane let loose an extremely manly sound that was definitely not a moan as he ground their hips together.  
"There's plenty else we can dispense with," Zane replied as he work Jack's shirt free of his pants. Feeling hands at his own waist, Zane raised his arms and let Jack pull his shirt off over his head. The sherriff gave a very gratifying growl of approval at the sight of his torso. He pushed Zane's hands aside - the supposed genius was still working on his shirt buttons, for some reason - and arched up to bite down on one of his nipples.  
" _Jesus!_ "  
"Are you - should I stop, or -"  
"Too hard! Here, let me." Zane pushed Jack down - this time he did smack his head on the tiles but somehow neither of them noticed - and rucked up his undershirt to return the favour. Jack busied himself with their belts and buckles and all the other god damned inconvenient obstacles getting in the way of some skin-on-skin contact. At last he was able to get his thumbs under the waistband of Zane's underwear and pull them down, earning a happy groan from the man still paying a lot of toothy attention to Jack's chest. Zane reached one of his hands down to help Jack out of his, and it took very nearly all of his control to keep his shit together when he felt Jack's hard cock against his own. Their movements were frantic now, hands on their own bodies and each others and with so much hot skin in the mix who even fucking knew where one ended and the other began. They kissed, all tongues and beer and then a little bit of teeth from Zane, who had proven he could show just enough restraint to be trusted with lips as well as nipples. They thrust against one another, hands meeting and grasping both of their lengths and stroking fiercely, urgently, and it was Zane gasping "Jack!" into his mouth that finally did it, sending first one and then the other over the edge, pulsing and spilling between them as they shuddered to a stop. Zane relaxed - okay, maybe collapsed - into Jack, conveniently winding up with his head in the crook of his neck for one last bite.  
"Hey, ow! Look, I know all you sciencey types are often distracted by your own genius, but I still think there'll be some questions asked if I wear a scarf to work tomorrow."  
"No work tomorrow," Zane mumbled quietly, nuzzling against the soft skin of his neck. Jack felt another spark run through his body, and wrapped his arms tightly around Zane."  
"Tomorrow," he whispered back. He felt Zane go slack in his arms, his breathing steadying. Jack kicked off his pants, and Zane's that were tangled with them, and sat up, cradling the younger man in his arms. Zane woke with a start, kicking against the arm under his knees.  
"Oh for crying out loud Zane. I'm just taking you to the bedroom."  
"I was comfortable."  
"Oh, I'm sure you were. But your floor is cold and you're heavy," Zane made a face, and Jack rolled his eyes, "in a _well-muscled_ kind of way, jeez." Jack toed open the door of the bedroom and entered, depositing Zane gently on the bed. He ducked into the ensuite and grabbed a towel, wiping himself off with one end before throwing it to Zane and crashing down on the bed next to him.  
"So. Tomorrow."  
Zane sighed, and dropped the towel beside the bed. "Can we discuss tomorrow tomorrow? Do you have to get home to Zoe?"  
"No, she's off on some school thing, won't be back for a couple of days."  
"Tomorrow, then." Zane surprised Jack then by rolling over and throwing a leg and arm over him, snuggling in. Jack glanced down at the cut on his hand; the glue had held.  
"Tomorrow," Jack agreed.


End file.
